


Though Not Alone

by Mara



Series: TharnType Corporate AU [2]
Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/pseuds/Mara
Summary: The inevitable happens but Tharn and Type are stronger together.
Relationships: Tharn Kirigun/Type (TharnType)
Series: TharnType Corporate AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624792
Comments: 35
Kudos: 370





	Though Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains memories of _significant_ non/dub-con and abusive behavior. None of it is happening in the present but the memories are explicit enough to be triggering. All memories appear in italics and can be skipped. You’ll miss a bit of nuance but the main story will still make sense without them.

_“Don’t.” Type could hardly draw a breath, shoved face-down into the bed as he was. “Stop. I…it hurts.”_

_Bun leaned in harder. “It’s gonna feel good, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”_

_He choked as Bun pushed in harder. “I didn’t want—”_

_Bun kissed his shoulder. “I couldn’t wait any longer. You’re just too sexy. I needed to make you mine before someone else did.”_

_Closing his eyes, Type held back a sob. It was starting to feel good, so Bun must be right._

_Type ignored the tears that were falling and focused on doing what Bun wanted._

* * *

Barely awake, Tharn rolled over to kiss Type on the cheek but got a mouth full of saltwater. What the…? Blinking, he stared down at his boyfriend, who was crying in his sleep. “Type,” he said, alarmed.

Type didn’t move.

Tharn shook his shoulder. “Type, wake up. Wake up!” He could see the moment when Type became aware of where he was, scrubbing the tears away quickly as if it would keep Tharn from seeing them. “Hey, sweetheart, are—”

“Don’t call me that!” Type sat bolt upright, almost bashing Tharn in the face with his skull.

“Right. No nicknames.” Tharn moved as slowly as he could. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Type turned away on the bed, but he didn’t get up, which Tharn had learned meant he needed a hug. Scooting noisily over, he wrapped his arms around Type and held him firmly. As always, it took a few minutes before the tension seeped out of Type and he relaxed back against Tharn.

Tharn sighed. It had been over a month since Type had a nightmare and he’d rather hoped that was the end of them.

* * *

They made it to work mostly on time and separated in the garage as they always did. Type was still quieter than normal but seemed to be on the mend.

By mid-afternoon, after a hurried lunch, Tharn was buried up to his eyebrows in a minor crisis, mostly of his underlings’ making. He was irritated and wished for a moment that Type could come work for him. Type could have sorted this mess out before it ever made it onto Tharn’s desk and he would growl at the people who caused it.

Tharn’s lovely daydream was interrupted by a call from his secretary. “Yes?”

“It’s security, sir. They said you wanted to be notified if a certain person tried to enter.”

Tharn sat up straight, breath catching in his throat. “Which building did he try to get into?”

“This one.”

Fuck. Tharn took a deep breath. “They turned him away, right?”

“Yes.”

“Tell them I’ll be down in a minute.”

His secretary, unflappable under most circumstances, paused. “You’re…going to the security office?”

Fingers digging into the leather of his chair, Tharn tried to think rationally. He shouldn’t. It would look odd for him to attend to this personally. “Right, of course not. Thank you.” 

Breathing deeply, he slowed his heart. Security did their job. Type was safe. Picking up his cell, he dialed Type.

“Hello?” Type sounded confused, which made sense since they rarely called each other during the workday.

“Are you somewhere where you can talk?”

“No. Hang on.” There were some rustling sounds and someone in the background speaking to Type. Eventually, the sound of a door closing. “What’s going on?”

“I think Bun tried to get into the building.” Type made a sound that Tharn couldn’t identify. “Security notified me. They turned him away, okay?”

“Okay.” Type’s breathing was harsh.

“I need you to go down to the security office in the first-level basement and look at the footage. We need to be sure it’s him.”

“Right.”

“Can you do that?”

“Asshole.” That sounded a bit more like Type. “I’m not some weak baby.”

“Of course not.” Tharn managed a grin, which he knew would show in his voice. “You’re my big tough boyfriend.”

“Ugh. Fuck you.”

“Not in this lifetime.” Tharn smirked into the phone, imagining the look Type would be giving him right now. 

“You’re hopeless.” Type was clearly torn between laughing and being mad.

“Hopelessly yours.”

“Goodbye, jerk.” And Type hung up.

Tharn’s smirk faded. He’d give just about anything to be down in the security office with Type, able to comfort him as he looked at his abusive ex on video. But they’d agreed that if this relationship was going to work, they couldn’t allow any interactions at work that smacked of favoritism. 

Yes, people knew they were dating and it had caused some hard feelings and harsh words, but after six months in which they kept their work lives separate, things seemed to be calming down.

Which reminded him of another call he needed to make. 

“This had better be a crisis,” Aun said as a greeting when she answered her phone. “I’ve been in meetings for 4 straight hours.”

“The asshole ex tried to get into the building this afternoon. He’s here.”

Aun didn’t say anything, but he could hear her at her computer. “Okay, I need you to breathe for me.”

“Aun—”

“Breathe. In and out five times.”

He rolled his eyes but took the breaths, which got easier as he went. 

“Better?”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly.

“It’s going to be okay, Tharn. We’re not going to fire Type because of this amateur criminal.” She sniffed. “Honestly, the kid should sue at least one of his past employers. You must know some good lawyers, so why haven’t you gotten on this?”

He couldn’t help laughing and the tight feeling around his chest loosened a bit more. “You win, it’s going to be fine.”

“And don’t you forget it. I’m going to set some things in motion. Call if you need me.”

“Thank you,” he said. The words were wholly inadequate, but they were all he had at the moment.

“You’re welcome. When this is done, I demand a dinner at that new steak place. With wine.”

“You got it.”

“Bye.” And Aun hung up before he could thank her again.

His desk phone buzzed. “Your 2 o’clock is here.”

Tharn rubbed his forehead. “Send him in.”

* * *

Tharn had trouble focusing on his meeting. He was lucky it was an internal meeting, so he would get some slack for his distraction.

He almost threw the poor junior staffer out of his office after half an hour and snatched up his phone.

_It was him_ was the only message from Type.

Tharn stood in the middle of his fancy office and cursed. He wanted to run downstairs to Type’s office and take him away, but he knew he couldn’t. Type would punch him, to begin with, and it wouldn’t do anything good for his job prospects.

Forcibly calming himself down, Tharn stared at his phone for a while before deliberately replying, _Please don’t leave the building alone. We can go home at 4 or you can catch a ride with someone else._

He ignored the work piling up to stare at the phone until Type replied. _Okay._

* * *

At 4 precisely, Tharn stood by his car, jingling his keys anxiously, his heart not settling until he saw Type exit the elevator. He couldn’t help it, taking quick steps forward until he was holding Type in his arms.

They stood like that for a long moment before Type pushed him away. “Gah, we’re still at the office.”

“I know.”

Type rolled his eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nodding, Tharn watched him climb into the car.

They were silent as Tharn pulled out of the garage and merged into traffic. “Type…”

“I’m still going out with Zee tonight!” Type burst out angrily, fists clenching in his lap.

“Of course,” Tharn said soothingly. “I was just going to ask you to be careful. Could Zee pick you up at our house instead of meeting you there?”

“Oh…yes.”

“Then I’ll be less worried.” Tharn chuckled. “I know Zee will kick anyone’s ass who gets too near you.”

Type nodded, then turned to stare out the window.

_“Where you goin’, baby?” Bun tugged on Type’s arm._

_“To get a drink with Techno.” Type ducked his head down to avoid the look he knew would be in Bun’s eyes._

_“Don’t go.”_

_“I just…one drink.”_

_Bun huffed. “Don’t you care about me?”_

_“Of course I do. I just haven’t seen No in weeks.”_

_“But I have plans for tonight.” Bun’s hands wandered onto Type’s hips, then slowly around to his front. “Good plans.”_

_“I…” Type swallowed, trying to push Bun’s hands off. “I really want to see him.”_

_Bun opened Type’s pants and slid his hands in. “Why? Stay with me. I need you more.”_

_“O…okay.”_

Type had seemed better after Zee dropped him off at the house around 10 pm. They’d gone to a local bar and watched a football game that Type had very strong feelings about. Tharn couldn’t possibly have cared less about the sport, but he was happy to just listen to Type talk about it, looking like his normal self.

But now…the clock read 3 am and Tharn held Type, who was staring off into space. It was worse than when Type got mad. At this moment, Tharn would do anything to have the Type who got pissed off, ranted at him for 20 minutes, then went out in the backyard to kick a ball around for a while until he felt better.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Type had had another nightmare involving Bun. Tharn wasn’t sure whether he should ask about it or not, so he held his boyfriend and thought very bad things about Type’s ex.

“Why me?” Type whispered eventually.

Tharn buried his face in Type’s neck. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I stayed with him. For months.”

Tharn closed his eyes. “I bet he said you led him on, didn’t he? Something like that?”

A full-body shiver went through Type.

“San said that to me, y’know. That I’d lured him with my good looks and I had to pay the price.” It was a calculated risk to mention San, but it paid off. Type twisted in his arms and stared.

“He what?” Type growled, instantly transforming from sad puppy to angry protective wolf. 

“But that’s bullshit.” Tharn leaned back far enough to meet his gaze. “I know that as well as you do. He treated me like shit because he wanted to, because it made him feel like a tough guy. I didn’t do anything wrong except want to be loved.”

Myriad expressions flashed across Type’s face before he settled on disgruntled and cranky. “Hmmph.” He let Tharn enclose him in his arms again.

Tharn held his grumpy brat. Maybe it was time to take another calculated risk. “I love you,” he said softly into Type’s ear.

Type seemed to have stopped breathing.

“You don’t have to say it to me,” Tharn said. “That’s not why…I just wanted you to know that you’re loved.”

To his shock, Type started to cry. Tiny hiccupping sobs that broke Tharn’s heart into pieces.

_“Nobody will ever love you as much as I do,” Bun said. “Show me how much you love me.”_

_Type whimpered as Bun pushed his cock back into Type’s mouth, cutting off his breathing._

_“Fuck.” Bun grunted and thrust harder. “Yeah, make those noises for me. Just for me. You’re mine.”_

_Hands tied behind his back, all Type could do was take it. He was overwhelmed and overstimulated._

The tears finally slowed and Tharn rubbed Type’s back in slow circles, occasionally stopping to scratch the parts he knew were always itchy.

Type tilted his head up and kissed Tharn fiercely and Tharn reacted automatically. But as he felt himself pushed back onto the pillows, he put his hands on Type’s shoulders. “Whoa,” he gasped between bouts of being devoured alive. 

“Don’t you want me?” Type said as he kissed his way down Tharn’s neck to his chest and stomach.

“Yes! I mean, yes, but are you sure you want to? Maybe you should wait until you’re not upset?” Tharn’s cock disagreed with extreme prejudice, but that wasn’t relevant.

Raising his head, Type stared at him, his expression difficult to read in the moonlit room. Then out of the blue, he smiled broadly, one of the real smiles even Tharn only got to see occasionally. “That’s exactly why I want to do this,” he said, pulling Tharn’s pajama pants down as quickly as he could.

Tharn lost the ability to argue or even form coherent sentences moments later.

* * *

It had been a long and emotional rollercoaster of a night but the sun eventually rose. Tharn was immensely tempted to stay in bed all day with Type. They could lock the doors, lower the blinds, and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. But that wouldn’t solve anything, would it?

They got ready for work in silence, Type getting more and more tense as the time to leave approached. Tharn offered him some broth for breakfast in the hopes he would eat something, but unsurprisingly, Type looked nauseated at the thought of any food.

Tharn walked out of the house first while Type ran back to the bedroom to grab his phone. It took a moment for what was wrong to register but his much beloved Audi A4 had definitely not had the word “DIE” spray painted on it when they went to bed the night before.

Before he could figure out what to do, he heard Type’s footsteps behind him. “Fuck!” Type yelled.

Right. The car was less important than Type. Tharn whirled, grabbing his boyfriend and holding him tight. “Let’s go back inside.”

“That fucking—”

“Inside,” Tharn said firmly. “We’re going to call the police. In this neighborhood, someone might have a security camera that caught him.”

The blank fury in Type’s eyes calmed as he looked at Tharn. Slowly, he nodded.

“So we’re going to call the police and we’re going to calmly and rationally explain this to them, okay?”

“Yeah.” Type took a shuddering breath.

“You’d better call the office and say you’re going to be late while I call the police.”

Type nodded, turning away from the car and going inside. Tharn closed his eyes and took a few breaths to calm himself. It was going to be hard enough dealing with any potential homophobia from the cops, it wouldn’t help if they were hysterical and incoherent.

* * *

Thankfully, the police officers who were sent out were polite; their views on two men living together were kept entirely to themselves. Tharn appreciated that. He suspected Type didn’t even notice, so focused was he on explaining Bun, but it was helpful.

Type explained that he and Bun had dated two years ago and that Bun had disrupted his work more than once. No, he hadn’t called the police because he wasn’t sure what had happened was a crime. The officers also had no opinion on that, calmly taking notes.

No, Type wasn’t sure his former coworkers would remember Bun’s face. He’d generally caused problems at a distance or through intermediaries. 

Tharn provided the contact information for ST Industries’ security office, with their helpful footage of an angry Bun trying to enter the building and asking for Type and Tharn.

That caused the most visible reaction in the officers as one paused in his notetaking to meet Tharn’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “He’s escalating,” the officer said.

Tharn nodded, holding Type’s hand more tightly.

* * *

They finally made it to work for a half-day, taking a cab after Tharn hired someone to tow his car away to get cleaned.

Type stalked through the front door of the building, brows furrowed and expression angry, not even waiting for Tharn to catch up with him as he showed his badge and went through security. Tharn sighed, realizing there was nothing more he could do right now, and started to follow. One of the security staff held up a hand as Tharn swiped his badge. 

“Mr. Kirigun, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Ms. Dangprakon would like to speak to you immediately.”

Tharn’s heartrate spiked. For Aun to not call him on his cell but summon him to her office was a bad sign. He nodded his thanks and headed for the elevator.

Within a minute he was marching past her secretary, who was used to his behavior and knew it wasn’t worth trying to stop him unless Aun’s door was shut. He took some satisfaction in slamming that door shut behind him.

Aun looked up from the papers she was reading and gave him an unimpressed look.

“I’m having a really shitty week, so can we not play games?”

She put the papers down and gestured to a chair. “I’m not playing games, I’m trying to keep everyone safe and employed, thank you very much.”

Closing his eyes, Tharn took the five deep breaths she’d prescribed the previous day, then sat down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was very rude of me.”

Aun didn’t bother to reply to that since it was self-evident that it had been rude. “I wanted to show you in person what Type’s supervisor received with the noon mail delivery. And I wanted to show you in private so you could decide what to do about it. And curse in private as well.” Picking up a folder, she held it out to him.

Tharn didn’t want to look but he opened the folder, half expecting it to explode in his face. The photo of him and Type making out in their backyard wasn’t a significant improvement on an explosion. Bun had been fucking _spying_ on them. 

He flipped the first photo over and found one that was even worse. At some point they’d failed to completely close the blinds in the bedroom and this showed them mostly naked and in bed.

“How many people have seen this?” he whispered, staring down at the photo.

“Just his direct supervisor and me. Thanks to your warning, Mr. Jattawan was keeping a close eye on mail, packages, and messages and this was unopened when he found it.”

With a sense of foreboding, he flipped the second photo over and for just an instant saw the image of Type naked and tied to a bed before he shut the folder with shaking hands. “Type didn’t tell me Bun had…not that he had to tell me…”

“Tharn!” Aun said sharply. “Focus. I’ve already sent a message out to the entire organization in case he sent these photos to anyone else. Any suspicious letters or packages will be sent to security and held.”

Tharn’s head shot up and he stared at her in horror. He finally took a really good look at her and realized that she looked…tired. “Aun, I—”

“Don’t. Even if you weren’t my friend, this would be hard. I need to protect the organization after all.” Her voice was bitter. “But in this case, I think he shot himself in the foot. Everyone in town has known you were together for months and with all of our prep work, it’s going to be difficult to prove any favoritism.”

“So, there’s just the matter of our invaded privacy.”

Aun leaned her elbows on her desk and looked at him. “Yes.”

* * *

Tharn wished he could put the conversation off forever, but he asked Aun to call Type up so they could talk away from their coworkers. With the all-organization email sent, Type was going to guess something was wrong anyway. Aun loaned them a meeting room and ushered Type in as soon as he arrived, closing the door behind him.

Wide-eyed, Type stood just inside the doorway as if ready to flee. “What? What is it?”

“The bastard sent pictures to your boss,” Tharn said quickly, not wanting Type to wait any longer. “Of us. Of you.”

Type blinked several times.

“Mr. Jattawan saw at least one of the photos. I’m sorry. But you’re not in trouble.” Tharn wasn’t sure if he should approach Type or give him a chance to process.

Fists clenching, Type looked like steam should be coming out of his ears. “Damn it.”

Tharn wanted to say everything was going to be fine, but that probably wouldn’t go over well. He stood and waited.

Finally, Type sagged against the door and Tharn stepped forward to hold him. Type buried his face in Tharn’s neck. “It’s like the police officer said,” Type murmured. “He’s escalating. It’s always been dirty tricks before, not…this.”

Tharn hummed his agreement.

_Type frowned as he looked at the ATM receipt. “I thought I had more than that in my account.”_

_Bun grinned and plucked the receipt out of his fingers. “Don’t worry about it, honey.”_

_“But I was planning—”_

_“I said don’t worry about it. I had bills to pay.” And Bun wandered off, whistling._

They went back to work when they had both calmed down…or at least calmed down as much as they could. No other sinister envelopes were found in the building. Aun had taken care of contacting the police about the photos.

Although everyone was on edge, the afternoon went by without incident and Tharn and Type took a cab home. Type went up to the bedroom immediately and Tharn stood in the living room and tried to figure out what to do.

He heard the shower start and went to heat up some congee, which he put on a tray and carried up. Type was already in pajamas and hiding in the bed. 

“Please come eat something,” Tharn said.

The lump in the bed was clearly shaking its head.

“You haven’t eaten all day. You’re going to make yourself sick.” When that got no response, Tharn played his last card. “That’s exactly what Bun wants, isn’t it? For you to be miserable and unhappy.”

Type was clearly working through the logic, but eventually he sat up, glaring at Tharn. “Fine, I’ll eat.”

“Thank you.” Tharn put the tray down and they both ate their congee in silence. Because what was there to say right now?

* * *

Through the magic of applying money to the situation, Tharn’s de-insulted car was sitting in the driveway when they woke up in the morning. Tharn managed to push Type to eat a little breakfast and they went to the office. They paused in the garage, looking at each other. Tharn was sure that Type had the same fear that walking into the building would trigger more awful things, but here they were.

Swiping Tharn’s badge, they stepped into the elevator and rode up to their respective offices.

Tharn was on edge the whole damn day but…nothing happened. It was a kind of no-win situation, he thought, glaring at a very badly written proposal: If something happened, that was bad, but if nothing happened, that was terrifying.

With a sigh, he went back to ripping apart the marketing plan that some foolish person had sent for his review.

* * *

Keys in one hand, Tharn juggled his phone and briefcase in the other, checking that he wasn’t late. Nope, it was only 6:30. But what the hell was the name of the restaurant he was supposed to meet this client at? Something fancy and French because that was the current hot trend. Too much cream and not enough noodles was his feeling, but oh well.

Reaching his car, Tharn dumped the briefcase on the ground so he could consult his phone, but keys and phone were flung to the ground when a body slammed into his. Tharn’s breath was knocked out of him as chest and chin both hit the car. He automatically jabbed an elbow back, which connected with some body part and got an “oof”.

Tharn flung himself to the side to get space to breathe and stared in shock at the asshole himself. Bun was holding his side but coming for Tharn again. “You!” Bun shouted.

“The fuck?” Tharn dodged the terrible punch, grateful now that Thorn had insisted he take regular self-defense classes…at least enough to keep out of the way of incompetents like this.

“How dare you touch him! He’s mine!” 

Tharn didn’t bother to argue, just kept his eyes on Bun’s movements to make sure he didn’t pull some kind of weapon. If security were doing their jobs, at some point they would see what was happening on one of their monitoring screens. It might take a few minutes to cycle through, though.

They circled each other, with Bun maneuvering so that Tharn never had a clear shot at the elevator or stairs out of the garage.

Bun screamed something or other and flung himself at Tharn, who barely had enough time to swerve to the side, where he encountered his forgotten briefcase. Tripping over it, he landed on hands and knees, rolling as fast as he could away.

And then Type was there, yanking Bun by the back of his shirt and swinging him around to land an absolutely perfect punch on his cheek. Tharn took a second to admire the way the asshole’s head was knocked back.

“Get your filthy hands off him!” Type yelled before he dropped Bun on the ground like a bag of garbage, Tharn scrambling to his feet to stand next to Type. Tilting his head, Tharn considered the half-conscious Bun for a moment before drawing his leg back and kicking him in the crotch.

Choking and gasping, Bun lay on the garage floor like a fish out of water. Type grinned at Tharn. “That felt pretty good, didn’t it?”

Tharn glanced at him. “Sure did. How did you get here, by the way?”

“Oh, I bribed the security guys to call me if they saw anything suspicious and then wait a few minutes.”

Tharn chuckled. He should probably be chastising Type for that, but…

They both watched Bun suffer for a few more moments. “Can I punch him again?” Type asked hopefully.

Tharn sighed. “Probably not right now. But if security takes _too_ long to arrive and he tries to run away, then feel free.” He slung an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“So, no big hurry for the security guys to get here, then.”

“Nope.”

* * *

After the police arrival and filing complaints and answering questions, it was hours before they made it home. Type scrounged up some leftovers while Tharn did some damage control with the client he’d missed dinner with. They decided to eat in bed again, because sitting at a table was too much work.

When they were done, Type cuddled up against Tharn.

“He’s just a man,” Type said eventually. “Not a powerful monster.”

Tharn sighed. “But they get into your head and that gives them power.”

“Is San still in your head?”

Tharn’s heart overflowed with love for Type, who was worried about him even in this moment. “No. I was frightened when he approached you but I’ve mostly evicted him from my head. But I had a lot more time than you to get over it.”

“Old man,” Type said, poking his side.

Chuckling, Tharn captured the errant finger. “How are you?”

Type shrugged one shoulder. “Better, I guess. I’d just built him up in my brain to be…scary.”

“It was understandable to be scared. He made you feel like you were alone and powerless.”

“But I’m not.”

Tharn squeezed him.

“Maybe…” Type took a breath. “Maybe sometime soon we could go visit Chiang Mai? I’ve got some friends I haven’t seen in a long while.”

“Any time.”

—end—

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve written Bun as an exaggeratedly abusive boyfriend for fictional purposes, but all the things he does happen to real people. If you have a partner who pressures you for sex or sex acts you’re not comfortable with, separates you from friends and family, demands all your time and attention, controls your finances, or generally makes you feel powerless…get out. Like Type and Tharn, you deserve to be loved, not owned.
> 
> I’m old enough to be some of y’all’s mothers but I remember being young and making poor choices. (Very poor choices, OMG.) You can get past that and be happy, I promise! Despite my poor choices, I now have a husband and two adorbs kids (one of whom writes fanfic, so clearly I’m doing something right).


End file.
